


Buying What You're Selling

by thegirlgrey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Past Relationship(s), Idiots in Love, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlgrey/pseuds/thegirlgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts how it always starts; a bet with Scott.</p><p>Or how Stiles became an actor and fell in love with Derek Hale (all because of Reese's peanut butter cups).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It starts how it always starts; a bet with Scott. They were eating lunch on the patio outside of their favorite hole in the wall cafe. Somehow Scott started up a conversation with the guy furiously looking over a script at the table next to theirs. And seriously, Stiles is gone for two seconds, _two seconds_ , to get a refill, and Scott is already worming his way into a complete stranger’s heart. The guy practically has stars in his eyes as he hands over a sheet of paper. Scott shoves it at Stiles.

“Dude, you need to go to this audition!”

He ignores the confused look on the other guy’s face. It isn’t his fault he got sucked into what Stiles had dubbed _The_ _Scott McCall Vacuum of Awesome_. His best friend is the shit, even if he is a little oblivious to how his puppy dog eyes and big heart affect those around him, hence the naming of the reoccurring phenomenon. He scans over the audition sheet and turns to stare incredulously at his best friend.

“What? You did say you needed extra money to fix the jeep! And it’s for a Reese’s commercial. You’d get paid to eat Reese’s! That’s like the closest thing to heaven on earth for you!”

Stiles snorts and flicks the paper back at Scott.

“Selena Gomez is the closest thing to heaven on Earth for me man.”

Scott beams at him but nudges the paper closer.

“It’s literally across the street in 10 minutes man.”

He sighs and pushes the paper away again. Scott is right. He does need the money to fix the jeep. His baby had decided that she needed a new radiator. While his work study program in the library pays his rent and his scholarships and grants pay his tuition, books, and food he doesn’t have much spending money. He refuses to take more than a couple of hundred dollars from his dad whenever he manages to make the hour and a half drive home.

“I won’t even get it. I have no acting experience at all.”

There’s a determined gleam in Scott’s eyes. Stiles knows that look all too well. Scott isn’t a stubborn person by nature. But when he sets his mind to something he is more tenacious than a freaking pit bull.

“Okay, but look at it this way! The worst thing that can happen is you don’t get the job or that you do get the job but you have to work with some total douchebag.”

Stiles groans and buries his face in his hands.

“Why did you have to go and jinx me like that, Scott!?”

The boy just smiles and pushes the audition sheet to him along with a pen that the waiter had given him. Seriously, _The Scott McCall Vacuum of Awesome_ comes in handy sometimes. (So what if he used it to his advantage? That Folklore class had a two semester waitlist! It would have pushed back his entire college plan by a _year_.) He sighs and starts filling out the paper.

“I don’t even have my resume with me or a headshot. And who the hell do I put down for my Agent?”

Apparently Scott is five steps ahead of him today. Not to say he isn’t a smart dude. He is going to school to become a veterinarian. He just doesn’t usually focus on short terms plans. He was always more of a long term kind of guy. Scott pulls out Stiles’ iPad and pulls up his Facebook to screen cap a decent picture of Stiles, courtesy of Allison getting back into photography. Then he pulls up Stiles’ LinkedIn account and makes sure both items are easy to find on the tablet. He hands it over to Stiles with a smile.

“Just put Lydia down as your agent. She can do anything.”

He isn’t lying. Ever since Stiles had gotten over his infatuation with her (now looking back, it was more of a creepy borderline stalker-ish obsession) they had become close friends. She is brilliant in every way and there is literally nothing Stiles can think of that she can’t do. Except eat grapefruit. He takes the offered iPad after Scott shakes it at his face and sighs again. Today is a day of made of sighs.

“I don’t know about this, Scott.”

His best friend just smirks at him and says the three words that had gotten them into so much trouble back in Beacon Hills.

“ _I dare you_.”

He narrows his eyes at his best friend, grabs his stuff, and darts across the street ignoring Scott’s shouts of support. When he gets into the audition room the producer raises an eyebrow as he hands his iPad over for her to see his photo and his resume but doesn’t say anything else. He shrugs a shoulder and gives it to her with a sheepish grin. They don’t even ask them to read anything but somehow he’s the one that gets asked to stay behind. He’s the one that gets a business card and a date and time to show up to shoot next week. He’s the one they tell to make sure his agent gets the paperwork they sent to her back to them as soon as possible. He doesn’t know how he even ends up on the sidewalk. He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He thinks he might be in shock. His phone starts ringing not even two minutes after he leaves the building. He fumbles to accept the call.

“You’re getting $1000 upfront the day of the commercial. It’s running nationally, and we’re in talks about paying you residuals. They are a multimillion dollar company. They can afford to pay even a budding actor a few grand per commercial airing. Especially if you were open to working for them again if it goes well. Also, you need to meet with Jackson’s father tomorrow to sign the paperwork.”

He takes his phone away from his ear to blink at it for a few seconds then pulls it back.

“Lydia, I don’t need whatever the hell residuals are. That’s more than enough to fix my Jeep.”

Her voice goes hard and sharp. Uh-oh.

“Stiles Stilinski. This isn’t about what you need. It’s about what you deserve. You deserve people paying attention to you and paying you to film your cute little moles.”

She gets what she’s saying. Ever since the messy break up with Heather she’s been openly and loudly concerned about his low self esteem. Heather did a number on him. He was too in love with her to see just how much she was stripping him away, little by little. It was Jackson, Jackson of all people, to intervene and ot make Stiels see just how much she was hurting him pyschologically. He nods silently even though he’s on the phone and she can’t see him and pushes those thoughts away. He pulls them both out of bad memories the only way he knows how.

“I knew you found me attractive.”

She snorts very unlady like on the other end of the phone before she can stop it. It never fails to make Stiles grin.

“Please, I find you moderately adorable at best. Your father however is a silver fox.”

“Oh my god, _Lydia_! You can’t say things like that about my father!”

She laughs long and loud and by the time she settles down her voice is light and fond.

“Your dad is going to be so proud.”

The way she says it makes it sound like she is the one that’s proud of him. But she is right. His dad will be- _His dad_.

“You can’t tell him Lydia! He already feels guilty about not being able to afford to help me out with college. I don’t want to tell him about this.”

“Stiles, sweetie, you do realize that this is going to be a national ad right? The whole country is going to see it.”

He drags a palm down his face.

“Oh crap.”

He takes a deep breath and tries to think calm thoughts. His dad will understand. He respects that Stiles wants to make it on his own. He will be proud of him. He’ll probably brag about it to everyone. He face palms again.

“He’s going to Tivo it isn’t he?”

Lydia laughs down the line and hangs up on him. Ugh, worst agent ever.

* * *

_I dare you._

Three simple words. That’s all it took to get him here, sitting in a fake library in some studio downtown, with the hottest guy he’s ever seen glaring at him (he’s either a really good actor or he’s contemplating Stiles’ murder. Stiles can’t tell which but he did apologize for spilling the dude’s coffee), shooting a commercial about Reese’s. Perfect combination his ass. Not the candy (his beloved Reese’s!) but Larissa, the producer of the commercial, and her declaration that Stiles and Derek were a perfect combination. It took all of three minutes for Stiles to get on Derek’s nerves and they hadn’t even been introduced yet. He’s pretty sure Derek is trying to figure out how to kill Stiles with a peanut butter cup and still get paid. Stiles sighs. Out of everything he wasn’t expecting his first and only acting job to go down like this...

The first thing he does when he gets to the studio is sit on Scott’s bike for a minute and try not to throw up. The only thing keeping him from doing it is that Scott would give him his disappointed look for getting his brand new Victory dirty. (He’d come a long way from his dirt bike, and the Hammer was a thing of sleek, matte black beauty.) The script they’d sent to Lydia didn’t require him to say anything. He’d just have to look annoyed, glare at the other actor, and fight over a package of Peanut Butter cups. He figured he’d picture the other guy as Jackson and everything would be fine. Well... easier said than done.

His nerves felt like they're trying to eat their way out of his body. He took a calming breath but all he got is a lungful of warm, stale helmet air. He pulled the helmet off and drug a hand through his hair to try and tame the mess. He was too distracted by the thought that everyone in the building would judge him for showing up to an acting gig with helmet head that he doesn't see the man passing along side his bike. He watched in horror as the helmet smacks the bottom of the coffee cup and sends it splattering to the sidewalk in front of them, almost in slow motion. He immediately jerked his head up to apologize… and completely forgot what words were.

“Watch what you’re doing.”

The voice isn’t nearly as gruff as he expected it to be. The man was classically gorgeous. Literally. He looked like a Greek God. Stiles didn’t even feel bad for making that cheesy reference. His shirt was fitted to him so perfectly that Stiles could almost forget that his beautiful eyes (were they blue, green, hazel?) were glaring at him for spilling his coffee. Stiles sat back on the bike, pulling the helmet onto his lap.

“Sorry!”

He winced when it came out louder than anticipated. He cleared his throat and tried again with a grimace.

“Sorry.”

The guy rolled his eyes, flinging the few drops of spilled coffee from his fingers with a flick as he walked away. Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. He didn’t, however, stop himself from staring at the guy’s rather spectacular ass. He put the helmet back on and groaned at his complete lack of finesse.

“At least I’m nauseous for another reason now.”

He sighed and yanked the helmet off again grabbing the strap between his fingers and swinging himself off the bike.

“It’s not like I’ll ever see him again."

...Yeah. There’s a reason why Stiles believes in jinxes. The second you say something isn’t going to happen it happens. Fore example: I can totally jump off of the roof and stick the landing Scott. I won't even sprain anything! His left arm was broken in 2 places. Or that one time he boasted: I’ve never gotten a flu shot and I’ve never had the flu Isaac. It was the most miserable two weeks of his freshman year. How about the time he laughed at Danny saying: Nobody gets arrest for jay walking. His dad had to get it cleared from his record (and laughed the entire time). Oh yeah. It always happens, at least to Stiles.

And now he’s just sitting there, getting glared at by his coworker (co-actor?), waiting for the director, the producer, and the stylist to finishing panicking over not having a wardrobe (he still can’t figure out if the stylist is actually missing or if it’s just the clothes). He’s already been poked and prodded by makeup. They had managed to tame his hair at least. Now they’re all just lounging around the set waiting for somebody to make a decision. It’s kind of amusing actually.

Something about the wardrobe being the same, the guys they are planning are annoyed by it, then they are forced to sit at a table together because it’s the only available one with a power charger, then they discover the Reese’s left on the table, and split it because _everyone shares a love for Reece’s peanut butter cups_. It’s an okay idea. Stiles can only guess because he knows fuck all about commercials. He’s just getting paid to sit here. Which is actually kind of cool if not a little boring. He starts to tap at the table, knocking out a random beat from some song he heard on the radio.

“Don’t be nervous.”

Stiles stops tapping to stare up at Hot Brows. He’s taken to call him that in his mind, that and Sexy Scruff.

“I’m… not?”

Hot Brows quirks an eyebrow at him, like _really_. Stiles has to control the urge to just flail at how unbelievably hot that is.

“Try to ignore the cameras.”

Stiles laughs.

“Dude, I excel at ignoring problems until they go away.”

He swears he sees the guy’s lips twitch before his scowl is set in place again.

“Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles grins at his frown.

“I’m Stiles. And I’m not nervous.”

Another raised brow has him correcting his statement.

“I’m not like uh, _really_ nervous. I have ADHD. Me and sitting still? Don’t mix well.”

He leans back in his chair and pulls his hand into his lap to toy with the soft gray cotton at the hem of his t-shirt.

“Derek Hale. I do not have ADHD, but I do have a caffeine addiction.”

Stiles can’t even feel bad about taking out his coffee this morning before Derek is flashing Stiles a smirk that has his insides going hot and melty. _Jesus_. He nods his head to give himself some time to get his shit together.

“Stiles Stilinski. Yes, that’s a nickname. No, its not that creative, but it’s me.”

Derek nods at him seriously and goes back to idly watching a PA run back and forth like a headless chicken. The director is reiterating the argument that the script doesn’t make sense without the matching outfits, that Stiles and Derek are just two angry guys in a library that suddenly become best buds because of a freaking peanut butter cup. Stiles snorts at his comment and earns himself a glare from the writer. He settles back into the silence at his shared table in the fake library. This time it’s a lot more comfortable even with Derek’s stoicism. That doesn’t mean that it’s easy for Stiles to sit there and do nothing. He plays with his phone but even the Sims can’t keep him occupied for long. The third time he hears Larissa trying to pitch a new idea that they can shoot today he clears his throat.

“I uh, I might have an idea?”

The director spins to him with a desperate look. Derek just continues to sit there with his slightly more friendly brood face on. Stiles channels his inner actor and ignores him.

“So my best friend’s first meet the parents dinner went bad, like really bad. There wasn’t even a dinner to begin with. He got caught making out with her in the garage. Not the best way to meet her dad you know?”

The sound and stage crew chuckle. It gives Stiles enough confidence to keep going.

“That’s not even the worst part. He was forced to stay for fear of being shot. And I mean that literally. Her dad owns a fire arm and ammunition company. He used half the garage as storage for samples and prototypes. They were surrounded by guns. It was so bad.”

Everyone is laughing in disbelief. Even Derek’s face twitches.

“So he stays for dinner and gets through it without bodily harm. Come desert her dad asks him to help him in the kitchen. He gives him the whole protective dad routine. “You hurt my baby girl and they will never find the body” etcetera etcetera. But the entire time he was trying to intimidate Scott he was like aggressively grabbing the cake and the plates and stuff. Scott reenacted it for me, and I had to use his asthma inhaler on myself I was laughing so hard.”

By now everyone is chuckling under their breath. They outright laugh as he arranges his face in a scowl and returns Derek’s glare as he slowly drags the packet of peanut butter cups over to his side of the table. The director loses his shit. Stiles drops the act and grins back up at him, rubbing his neck nervously.

“Think that might work? Like then the librarian comes in and grabs the candy then gives us each a cup because we’re disturbing the other patrons? We don’t have the wardrobe problem and you can cut down on editing time.”

The director clamps him on the shoulder, still chuckling.

“Kid, if you ever think about directing give me a call.”

He turns back to the rest of the crew.

“Let’s get reset!”

They manage to get it within the next 10 takes. Stiles has had 16 peanut butter cups too many. It’s a blessing when Clark, the director, calls it a wrap. Stiles groans and holds a hand to his belly. Derek snorts at him as he pulls himself up from the table to stretch. Apparently sharing candy with a guy endears you to him. Not that Stiles is complaining.

“You know you didn’t have to eat them all.”

Stiles groans louder as he stands.

“But they were right there.”

He shuffles his way over to where the producer that hired him is talking to some bored looking intern thumbing through a smart phone and nodding every other minute. Larissa stops her conversation and smiles at them.

“Derek, it’s been a pleasure to work with you, as always. Stiles, we are looking forward to working with you again. We have your information. We’ll keep in touch.”

Stiles really doesn’t know what to say about that. He only needed this job to get the money to fix his jeep. And he’d gotten more than enough. And if he knows Lydia, she’s going to get him that residual pay she was talking about. He doesn’t need to shoot a commercial again but he keeps his mouth shut. You don’t look gift horses in the mouth.

“Thanks. I uh, I’m looking forward to it as well.”

The assistant/intern/whatever hands them each a check and waves them off. They both wander over to the beat up sofa that they tossed their stuff near when they came in.

“Who’s your agent? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the Martin Agency.”

Stiles gives him a crooked smile as he wrangles his way into the too small leather jacket. Maybe he should use some of the commercial money to buy a new one that actually fits.

“She isn’t an agent.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow at that. Stiles shrugs.

“She’s a good friend.”

He has the rotate his shoulders a bit for the leather to fit less snugly. Derek fumbles his check before shoving it into his pocket carelessly.

“I’m uh pretty sure that she got you residual. As a first time actor in a nationwide commercial that’s pretty much unheard of. She’s uh, good at it.”

He tries to tamp down the ridiculously fond smile he knows he gets on his face when he thinks about his friends, especially Lydia, but it doesn’t quite work. Derek doesn’t seem to mind at least. His lips twitch up into his almost smile. ( _Fucking hell, you haven’t known the guy for a day and you already know what his almost smile looks like. Get it together Stilinski!_ )

“She’s pretty much great at whatever she does. But I don’t think I’ll need her to be my agent again. I only need some money to fix my jeep.”

He waves his check in the air between them before slipping it into his backpack.

“This is way more than enough to get her running again.”

Derek studies him for a second before he shrugs.

“You did a good job today. I’m sure if you ever wanted to work with Clark and Larissa they’d be up for it. That was a really good idea back there.”

He smiles at Derek.

“Thanks.”

“See you around, Stiles.”

“Uh yeah, you too.”

He slips his backpack on and grabs his borrowed helmet. He misses the way Derek is staring at how the black leather hugs his shoulders and falls short enough at his waist to show a sliver of pale, toned skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re standing on the sidewalk outside of the station. Derek blinks at Stiles. Stiles blinks at him, helmet dangling at his side.
> 
> “I don’t know what just happened. Do you know what just happened?”
> 
> Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
> 
> “Erica happened."

It’s not like he planned on doing it again. He didn’t. He wasn’t going to. He had an appointment with a mechanic to fix his Jeep in two days. But then Isaac just had to borrow his laptop. He just had to finish his paper at the coffee shop around the corner. He just had to flirt with the barista. He just had to use those baby blue eyes to make her all flustered. In his urge to get a date he turned u the charm and the barista got all jelly kneed and accidentally drowned his laptop in hazelnut macchiato. And then, after Isaac slunk off to get apology take-out and Stiles was trying to appease the computer gods, (“I don’t even care that it smells like candy. I’ll deal with the sticky keys! Just GIVE ME BACK MY _BABY_!”) Lydia called. Larissa had another gig for him. He’d even have a line this time.

He glared at Scott where he was sitting on the sofa studying. Stiles had a feeling that he had something to do with this sudden offer. The upside down anthology in his best friend’s hands had a little something to do with it. He sighed into the phone and tapped listlessly at his fried laptop. Just extracting his data alone would cost about $800. He grumbled as he pulled his fingers from the space key.

“I’ll do it.”

Lydia didn’t even have the heart to pause like she hadn’t considered he would say yes.

“Perfect, there’s a courier on his way to your apartment with papers to sign. I’m emailing you all the details. Also, I’m buying you an external hard drive because I’m above saying I told you so.”

Stiles ended the call without bothering to listen to the dial tone. He rested his head against the metal of the computer. He could feel his skin sticking to it. He doesn’t really care.

* * *

He swings himself off of Scott’s bike once he gets to the train station. He’s lucky their apartment is close enough to campus for Scott to let him borrow it again. He’s lucky his criminology professor likes him enough to let him skip class. He’s not so lucky that he didn’t get almost completely soaked on the way over. The air after the storm is muggy and thick. He can feel his shirt sticking to him under the leather jacket. His jeans are clinging to his thighs and everything is just…damp. He yanks his helmet off as he jogs to the entrance where an equally wet PA is waiting with a clipboard and almost useless umbrella. He smiles and gives his name, she waves him through with a _what can you do_ smile. By the time he gets to where she told him to go even his hair is soaked and his boots leave wets prints across the floor.

He’s trying to look behind him at the watery trail he left behind, wondering if he should tell someone before somebody slips, when he nearly collides with someone. He only doesn’t because he grabs them around the waist and braces his hand against a nearby beam. He blinks at the person in his arms, an apology on his lips when two things happen simultaneously. The camera shutter on an iPhone sounds loudly to his right and Stiles recognizes the pair gorgeous hazel eyes blinking back at him.

“Derek?”

“Stiles?”

A female voices tears his attention away from Derek.

“Stiles!? You’re Stiles?”

Stiles turns to the blonde bombshell grinning ear to ear at him. If it’s possible her grin gets even wider as she gives him a thorough once over as he takes a step back from Derek.

“Uh, yeah. Hello.”

He gives her a little jaunty salute. Derek takes one look at him, scowls, and darts out of the room. Stiles lets his hand fall to his side utterly confused.

“Um, so yeah.”

Erica saunters over to him and plucks at his shirt. He bats her hand away. She laughs, bright and warm.

“Trust me, I don’t lose my wardrobe. Well, it was once and it was spring break.”

Stiles laughs despite himself, shrugging out of his jacket. He doesn’t even notice when Derek comes back, two towels tucked in his arms. Stiles accepts them with a smile. He misses the gob smacked look Derek gives him as he roughly towels off his hair. He’s just hooking the towel over his neck when he catches Erica grind her elbow into Derek’s ribs.

“Stiles this is Erica. My best friend and best wardrobe designer in the business.”

He shakes the hand extended to him. He’s been friends with Lydia and Allison so long that he’s not surprised by the strength behind. He’s kind of surprised that she keeps a grip on his hand and hauls him further into the room and toward a rack of clothes.

“I’ve got the _perfec_ t thing for you.”

He raises his eyebrows at the sudden honey sweet tone of her voice. That’s a tone he’s used to as well. It’s one that promises trouble. He looks over his shoulder at Derek who looks equal parts concerned and amused. Stiles ignores the fluttery feeling in his gut.

“If I don’t make it out, tell Scott I love him.”

Erica jerks on his arm hard enough that he lurches forward. He misses the pinched, disappointed look on Derek’s face. But Erica doesn’t. She starts to plan as she forces Stiles into tailored pants.

* * *

“I swear to everything that is holy, I’m going to strangle myself with this tie if this take isn’t ‘ _perfection_.’”

Derek snorts but looks like he agrees. The rain had left the open aired station muggy and thick. The director was not as sane as she seemed when she first met Derek and Stiles. They’ve been there for 4 hours. And really, Stiles should have known that this would have been a long day when she threw out their lines because “their energies are more powerful silenced!” on screen. He takes the round container of mints and tosses it up and down in his hand. This time he didn’t eat more than one.

“You took the job even though you hate the product.”

It’s not a statement. What Stiles has learned about Derek is that he’s a man of few words. and that he’s very observant. He tosses the mints up and down again, tugs at his tie.

“After my mom died, I had panic attacks. They were pretty bad. I had to see a psychologist. There was one guy, he would always try to give me these things. I kind of just associate them with bad memories, you know?”

Derek drifts closer and tugs at the collar of his leather jacket. Stiles tries to ignore just how devastating his looks in it.

“Yeah, I get it.”

There’s understanding in his eyes, not pity. Stiles wonders who he lost. The words are about to fall out of his mouth with the director finally calls them to their marks again. They run after the train again, meet by the big clock again, realize _hey hottie alert_ again, eat a damn mint again, and grin at each other again. It’s not that hard. But they still end up doing it 3 more times, to get all the angles bat crazy director lady needs. And every time Stiles’ heart flutters when Derek smiles at him. He’s got these crinkles around his eyes that are adorable. Eventually, Stiles and Derek manage to do something that delights the director, and she calls it a wrap. Stiles wants to think every deity out there because he really can’t take Derek smiling at him like that anymore or the fact that it’s grown even more humid. The heat is killing him. The first thing Stiles does the second they finish getting the set shots is rip off the tie and the suit jacket, almost popping the buttons to get the shirt off. Derek is starting at him with wide eyes. His cheeks are red. Stiles motion at his jacket. The guy must be sweltering.

“Dude, come on. I know you’ve got to be seconds away from fainting.”

And yeah, Stiles is really concerned. Derek’s face is flushed and everything. He’s about to call for someone, maybe Erica, but Derek is shrugging out of the jacket and yanking the button down over his head. It sticks to his skin so he has to force it off, over his sinful shoulders. Stiles can’t help but to stare. Neither can the PA helping with the lighting because she drops a light stand. Stiles jolts, finishes yanking the tie loose. He takes a second to just breathe a sigh of relief.

The relief is short lived as Erica comes sauntering up to them with their clothes in her hands. They look freshly dried. She also has his helmet and jacket in hand. Stiles is immediately suspicious. He narrows his eyes at her. She simply smirks right back. She hands him his things and turns to Derek with a pout.

“Derek, can I borrow your car? My piece of crap finally bit it and I need to be downtown in 20 minutes for a shoot.”

“I have dinner with Cora and Laura at _Milano’s_. I mean my sisters would understand-”

He looks torn. Erica’s lip starts to quiver. Stiles tries to intervene, offer her a ride when she turns her big doe eyes on him.

“I need the trunk to haul some pieces with me.”

Derek opens his mouth but Erica distracts him by tugging his t-shirt over his head and forcing him to put it on as she talks. She kind of distracts Stiles too. Those shoulders, _seriously_.

“I’m sure Stiles can give you a ride.”

She manages to dig Derek’s keys out of his pocket as she talks, distracts Stiles by shoving his paycheck in his jeans, keeps him distracted by saying he can keep the jeans he’s wearing (she doesn’t even blink at the fact that she’s giving him a pair of $300 jeans for _free_ or the fact that she tossed his $20 jeans just because “$20 jeans, really?”), and manages to usher them outside without either of them noticing. They’re standing on the sidewalk outside of the station. Derek blinks at Stiles. Stiles blinks at him, helmet dangling at his side.

“I don’t know what just happened. Do you know what just happened?”

Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Erica, Erica happened. Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll call someone to come get me. It’s just diner with my sisters. They won’t care if I’m late.”

Stiles immediately shakes his head no. Family is important. He has a feeling that Derek knows that just as well as he does.

“Don’t worry about it. I need to drive back to campus to turn in some work. The restaurant is on the way there.”

Derek looks at him, then stares over his shoulder at the Hammer parked at the curb. He holds out the helmet to Derek and digs out the Ray Bans he has stashed in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Come on dude. My dad’s the Sheriff back home. I’m the safest driver in the town.”

Derek still looks wary, but he takes the helmet. He even lets Stiles fix the straps. He pauses as Stiles swings his leg over as he pulls the bike up. He offers him a grin and a hand.

“If I die tell Erica she isn’t as sneaky as she think she is.”

Stiles laughs only to distract himself from the fact that Derek Sexy Scruff-Hot Brows Hale is plastered against his back, strong arms wrapped snugly around him, hands hot through the thin t-shirt they rest against. He kind of loves and hates Erica right now. He throws a grin over his shoulder at Derek before he pulls out into traffic. The arms around him tense but soon relax as Stiles gets up to speed. They cruise along the highway and if Stiles takes the scenic route, then well, that’s better on the bike’s tires. The back roads have a lot of potholes okay?

He can’t ignore the line of heat against his back or the way Derek’s arms tighten slightly as he weaves in and out of traffic. He can’t forget how Derek’s body moved with his as they leaned through the curves. They get to the restaurant way too soon for Stiles. He cuts the engine and watches as Derek slides off the bike. He looks a little unsteady on his feet. When he removes the helmet his face is flushed. Stiles can’t help but to grin. He felt like that after his first time on a bike too.

“Wow, that was, it was amazing.”

Stiles takes the helmet Derek offers him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. I’d buy one myself if I weren’t so attached to my Jeep.”

Derek nods, runs a hand through his disheveled hair. Stiles has to grip the throttle to keep himself from reaching out to do it too.

“I understand the feeling.”

They stay there just smiling at each other when Derek’s phone beeps. He rolls his eyes as he pulls it out. He gives Stiles an apologetic smile.

“That would be my sisters. They say they can see us by the way.”

Stiles laughs and waves at the large bay window of the restaurant. He can’t really see in because of the tint and the low glare of the now present evening sun.

“I should let you get to dinner then.”

Derek slips his phone back in his pocket. His smile is more blinding than the setting sun. _Those freaking eye crinkles, God._

“Yeah, thanks Stiles. I’ll see you around.”

Stiles smiles and slips on his helmet.

“Yeah, I think you will.”

As he pulls back out onto the street, pointing his bike toward campus, he deices that he’ll tell Lydia to contact Larissa again. He doesn’t need the money, but he’s starting to really like the company. 

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, I did write an Actors AU based on the product placements in Teen Wolf. 
> 
> Also...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t hate Heather as a character at all. Girl knew what she wanted and was dead set on going after it. (Get it girl!) I just wanted to use a character that had some connection with the show. Just a forewarning for things to come.


End file.
